


so what happened

by EasyPeasyPanic



Series: all of my founders era fics [18]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Bickering, Drabble, Established Relationship, Gen, Hashirama and Tobirama? Actual children when they fight, M/M, Madara is DONE with their shit, Passive-aggression, Silent Treatment, Something written AFTER i got a full night's sleep wow this is new for me :), sibling fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyPeasyPanic/pseuds/EasyPeasyPanic
Summary: Madara made the mistake of forgetting one detail about his husband and best friend.They were brothers. And brothers fight. Over just about anything.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: all of my founders era fics [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718458
Comments: 12
Kudos: 385





	so what happened

**Author's Note:**

> my brother pushed me today so if anyone would like to donate for his execution, i take gold dubloons

* * *

Madara blinks dumbly when he finds his husband _still_ wearing his home clothing. Which surprises him, just a little. Why has he not bothered getting dressed, even though he knows they have an early lunch with his idiot of a brother in the next twenty minutes? 

He can already imagine the headache this will cause later in the day when his stress began rising with _whatever_ foolishness Tobirama has decided to partake in now. Because for some odd reason, for all that it was known that Hashirama could be thoughtless, overly emotional, and far too eccentric, it was not so universally acknowledged that his brother could be just as ridiculous. If not more so. 

"Why aren't you dressed?" Madara asks, very slowly and articulating each word. He decides to snuff out whatever _this_ was going to turn into before it very well ruined their entire day. 

Tobirama doesn't move from his place by the window, staring out of it towards the dirt road that connects half a mile down to the main street of the village. "Hmm?"

"Clothes." Madara huffed, gesturing down at his own attire. He'd even bothered to comb his hair into a proper bun to keep it out of the way, but it wouldn't stay contained for long, so they needed to hurry this along. "Unless you plan on going naked?"

Which, admittedly, wouldn't be the _worst_ thing that's ever happened in their six months of marriage. 

Tobirama nods his head slightly, tilting it to the side. His face twists into one of thoughtful displeasure, which Madara thinks will mean that he finally rise up and start to get ready to leave before they're late. 

He's wrong.

He's very often wrong. 

"No." Tobirama says curtly, turning his gaze back to the window. "I'm not going."

Madara lets out a frustrated cry, "What do you _mean_ you're not going?" He rested his temples against his fingers, already feeling the thrum of a headache there beneath the surface, _waiting_ . "It's _your_ brother's lunch. You agreed to go. You can't refuse now."

Tobirama shrugged, "Anija will have to get over it."

" _Tobirama."_

"It isn't a good day." Tobirama repeats, giving him a hard look. It was a warning stare, that meant that Madara was treading across thin ice, but when had any member of the Uchiha ever had the common sense to avoid a confrontation. Instead of backing down, Madara changes his approach. 

"You're going to hurt your brother's feelings. We've been planning this for two weeks." Madara coerced, lowing his voice into one of fake pity and concern. "You know how emotional he gets over lost time with you."

Tobirama scoffs, whirling around. His eyes narrowed and he huffed loudly. "You _suddenly_ care for my brother's feelings?" He questioned, and his tone was icy. 

"I've always cared for Hashirama's feelings." Madara defends, suddenly flustered. How did this get turned around on _him_? He didn't do anything wrong in this situation! It was this damn early lunch and Hashirama and Tobirama with his lack of clothing and-- "He's my closest friend! Of course I damn well care." 

"So you're on _his_ side?"

Madara blinks stupidly. A migraine builds behind his eyes already, a mild throbbing that slowly begins to rise with every passing moment of this argument. 

"Sides? What do you mean ' _sides'_? It's a lunch we agreed to go to weeks ago!"

"Then you go." Tobirama grits out, bristling like he's been dipped in a sudden ice bath. He stands up, stalking towards the doorway that led back to their bedroom. "I refuse to go."

" _Tobirama_." 

The bedroom door slammed shut.

**_____ **

Of all the reactions that Madara expected when he arrived at the small restaurant and explained the situation, he really didn't expect the odd sense of calm that filled Hashirama's face as he quietly waved the waitress over. The Senju ordered a few drinks with a polite smile and a wink, and then whispered something to his wife as she ordered.

"Whatever they ordered is fine for me." Madara told the waitress, trying to keep his attention on his friend. Most of the time, when Tobirama somehow offended his brother or hurt his feelings with a curt or snide comment, Hashirama was a mess of waterworks and over-dramatic gestures that would turn into a mess of sobs and flailing limbs until the younger apologized begrudgingly or the older Senju somehow got over it. This time, however, Hashirama didn't seem to be affected by the absence of his brother on the day of their scheduled lunch. In fact, he was almost _scarily_ calm about the loss, going on about the day as if it were completely normal. 

Which was _not_ Hashirama. A small prick of fear hurt Madara's stomach that made him entirely uncomfortable by the schooled, amused expression on Hashirama's face.

"It's such a shame Tobirama didn't feel well enough to come to lunch." Hashirama says pleasantly to his wife, just as their food gets set down in front of them. Madara nods his thanks to the waitress, frowning and trying to discern what exactly was happening to his friend. 

Mito raised an eyebrow. She took a sip of broth with her spoon, teal eyes darting to Madara in _warning_ , although the Uchiha didn't quite understand what she was trying to convey other than: _danger._ Why was Hashirama talking as if his brother were sick? There wasn't anything wrong with him other than his stubbornness. Madara hadn't said a word about illness. 

Suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore. His stomach twisted as his instincts began shouting at him. _Something's wrong. Something is very wrong. Something--_

"I'm sure he'll be well by tomorrow for work, darling." Mito replied mildly, taking another sip. Hashirama nodded along to her words, his face twisting in thought. 

"Right. I'm sure he'll feel better." Hashirama smiled, although it wasn't the usual glee or soft happiness. It was a touch too wide, almost ominous. "I mean, illness would be the only thing that would keep him from spending time with me. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the missing scroll he accused me of taking?" His eyes are dark, more so than usual. Madara hurriedly moves his gaze down, shoving a mouthful of noodles into his mouth.

"Right." Madara says, feeling far too lost, but also somehow an accomplice in something very _wrong._ "Right, he's feeling ill. No...scrolls?"

Hashirama's smile doesn't fade. 

Mito doesn't seem the least bit put off by the entire situation, whereas Madara shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Usually, he let Hashirama do enough talking for them all while he and Tobirama conversed with Mito quietly under the loud chattering. That was not the case today, and it was unnaturally quiet. Especially with the very distinct, almost familiar look in his friend's eyes and the blankness of his smile that should have been comforting. It made every hair stand up on edge, and his Sharingan reactively _burned_ chakra into the coils surrounding his eyes as Madara struggled not to let it active as every instinct screamed _fight or flight_ at him. 

"Maybe we could have dinner." Madara grits out, already dreading the thought of having the pair in his home. But it seemed polite to offer and it Perhaps everything would be normal by then, right? There wasn't much more shit he could put up with any time soon. "How's Wednesday night? I'm sure Tobirama would enjoy company."

If he had to be miserable today, his husband could be miserable that night too. All's fair, and however else that saying goes. 

"Wonderful," Mito replies, far too cheerfully. "We wouldn't miss it."

**_____ **

Tobirama's mood had soured worse when informed of the dinner that Madara had invited the Senju to at their home. 

"Why would I want Anija in my home?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The temperature of the room seemed chillier as the Senju's chakra wildly fluctuates throughout, a reflection of his emotions. Madara endured for his own sake, trying to bite back a frustrated scream that threatened to tear out of his chest. 

"Because he's your brother?"

"Not at the moment he's not. I'm certain he took _my_ scroll. He was the last one in my office besides the genin assigned to clean, all of whom I've already spoken to. There's no evidence pointing to any of the children having taken it."

Madara sighed, rubbing his temples. "And there's evidence that Hashirama took it?" He questioned, already realizing that whatever this whole _stolen scroll argument_ was going to turn into would probably be a week long affair. It always did manage to ruin his week whenever a new round of bullshit happened upon the couple. 

"Yes."

"And what's the evidence?"

"That he's Anija. And I know it was him." Tobirama replied, like a petulant child. He stuck his chin out, his bright red eyes gleaming with a strange emotion that Madara couldn't recognize. Just like his brother. 

"Which is why you refused to come have lunch with him? Over a lost scroll you don't actually know Hashirama took?"

"I _do_ know he took it." Tobirama replied flatly. He gave Madara the most unimpressed stare that he had ever seen, as if the Uchiha were the idiot in the situation that didn't seem to understand what was going on. Which, to be fair, he _didn't_ exactly know what was happening other than Tobirama was certain that his older brother had taken his scroll, and that Hashirama was upset Tobirama refused to come to lunch, and something terrible would probably unfold that would raise his blood pressure more than usual. 

"And _how_ do you know he took it?" Madara asked again. 

Tobirama frowns. 

"Because he's _Anija_." He answered again, as if that explained anything at all. 

**_____ **

It doesn't get any better. In fact, it actually gets _worse_ far too early in the damn morning. Still sipping his now lukewarm tea out of a small thermos, Madara stumbles into their shared office tiredly. It was far too early in the morning for this shit, and he knew he had to catch up on his paperwork. 

He sets his finished papers down, wondering if he still has any liquor left under the floorboards he spent two hours prying open when he first got the office. He would need it by the end of the day if these endless stacks of just _filler paperwork_ didn't kill him. Madara kneels down, stretching his arms and legs before glancing up. 

Tobirama is motionless, his face twisted into _fury_ . Not even mild annoyance or irritation that were tolerable and usually just a twitch of his lips downwards. No, the man was _furious_. 

"Tobirama…?"

"He touched my stuff." Tobirama breathed out, slowly running his fingers across the desk that seemed to be no different than when they had left it a night or two ago. Madara rises, coming to stand by his husband's side. The desk was still neat, impeccably so compared to the nonsensical mess on the Uchiha's own. Nothing seemed out of place or like anything was wrong, and Madara was about to shout at the pale idiot for freaking out over _nothing_. Again. 

Tobirama motioned vaguely at everything, the neatly arranged pens and the paperwork stacked up beside the scrolls that were in a specific order. 

"Anija _touched_ it." Tobirama repeats, his chakra curling around the room like a warning. It was cool, not quite as icy as it had been last night, but it had a dangerous edge to it that made Madara take a step back. "Everything has been pushed a few inches in different directions."

Madara could have screamed. 

"You're mad he pushed your stuff around on the desk. Are you sure it was even Hashirama? You know we have people come through and clean, don't you?"

Tobirama whips around, his eyes narrowed. His fists were clenched into balls at his side, and the muscles of his arms flexed like he was trying to hold himself back from hitting something.

"I _know_ it was my brother." Tobirama tells him slowly. He takes a step forward, glaring at him with the same intensity that he's seen used at enemy shinobi that stray too close to his students. "Are you on Anija's side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side. I'm on my own side." Madara tells him, appearing unphased by the staring that makes him want to curl up and apologize for something he didn't even do. "Doing my work for today. Just go ask him again for the stupid scroll, if you think he took it. I doubt your tree-limbed brother deliberately came in and touched all of your things just to move them a few inches."

"He did. And I've asked, and he refuses to admit he took it." 

"Is it an important scroll? One of your more dangerous projects? A correspondence from another nation?"

Tobirama hesitates, visably deflating. His eyes dart down for a moment before he speaks. "No, it's just a regular one. I think it was blank." He replied. 

"A blank one-- by fucking Indra, you can just have one of mine." 

"I don't want one of yours. I want _mine._ That my brother took from me."

Madara took a very deep breath, "Alright." He dragged his palm down his forehead, trying to steady himself for whatever this would ultimately turn into. "Alright, do as you please. Just leave me out of it." 

"Of course," Tobirama replies with a soft smile. "As long as you aren't on Anija's side."

**_____ **

It only takes a handful of hours until the madness peaks again. It isn't unusual for one of them to go out and get lunch, usually whichever person was finished with their work for the morning first. So when Tobirama volunteers to get lunch for them that day, Madara thinks nothing of it. 

In retrospect, he probably should have. 

As his husband sets everything down on the table, Madara's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looks at the two meals, and then at the blank-faced Senju as he retrieves the disposable chopsticks out of his desk drawer.

"Tobira," Madara says. "There's only two portions."

"I know."

Madara sighs _very loudly._ "You had me go tell your brother you were going to get lunch today so he didn't go get himself anything. Where's his food?"

Tobirama smiles, taking a small bite of his meal. 

"I must have forgotten he was working today. That's so _terrible_ for Anija."

**_____ **

"So what are we _not_ going to do?"

Tobirama huffs, crossing his arms. "I am not a child. We aren't going over this again." He dutifully moved away from Madara as he pulled their good dishes out of the cabinets.

"I need to hear you say it out loud." 

"I can behave during a dinner, I don't need to go over rules." Tobirama replied, as if the past two hadn't been filled with passive aggressive behavior towards his brother. 

As if Hashirama hadn't started blooming the trees by Tobirama's window (despite it being mid-fall) just to watch him sneeze and sniff from the pollen. Or Tobirama stealing all of the pens and ink brushes in the Tower to watch his brother flail and try to complete his work by dipping his finger in the damn ink. And Hashirama _accidentally_ wiped his black-stained hands on his brother's haori left by the door instead of his own. It's just a mess. And it's progressing rapidly. For no reason. 

Over a blank scroll. 

"Tobirama." Madara grasps his shoulders, meeting his bright red gaze. He resists the urge to try and put the man under a Genjutsu to get through this evening. "I've already made Hashirama promise not to start anything. If any of my good dishes get broke, I will lose my shit. They were a gift from Izuna. Do you understand? You two will behave. Say it." 

Tobirama's lips pressed together. He didn't say a word. 

"Say it." Madara demands. "Say you won't fight with your brother."

Tobirama didn't do anything besides bristle at the attention. "I make no promises, and I doubt Hashirama will keep his word. You've had a brother, you know what they're like." He flinched at the sudden tightness of Madara's grip. 

"You're right. I did have a brother, but he's dead now." Madara intones, tilting his head as the grief overcame his face. Tobirama flinched again, his own guilt bubbling over the facade of neutrality and mild irritation. His eyes softened and he bowed his head. 

"I shouldn't have said that. I apologize." 

Madara nodded, "You shouldn't have. But I would feel _much_ better if you were to promise me you won't fight with yout brother." He offered a tight smile. The guilt that Tobirama began to bear over his brother's... _passing_ was easy enough to go after, like a falcon swooping in at its prey. 

Tobirama huffed again. "I'm not pleased with what you're doing. The guilting." He told him, glancing at the dishes. He shoved away from Madara's hands. "But _fine_ , I promise I will not start a physical fight with my brother. I will behave."

"Good." Madara replied. 

"I'll even serve the food, since you cooked." Tobirama offered kindly. Something inside Madara twisted in warning because it _seemed_ too easy. Almost too good to be true. He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to actually let him serve it because something felt off. 

Madara had lived too long not to trust his damn instincts when something in the air felt wrong, but at the same time, he _wanted_ to trust the Senju bastard. He should be able to, right? He married him. 

"Thank you." He says, hesitating. 

Madara will give him the benefit of a doubt. Just this once. 

**_____ **

Which was the wrong choice. 

It was very much the wrong choice. Why would Madara ever decide that trusting Tobirama was a good idea? He groaned loudly, frantically picking up his good dishes to move them away as the two brothers stared each other down. 

"It's less." Hashirama points at his own plate in exaggeration. "I measured it, it's less than everyone else's meals!"

Tobirama raised an eyebrow, "Are you accusing me of _measuring_ everyone's meals to make sure you got less than everyone else. Deliberately?" He questioned, although he didn't sound a bit offended by the accusation. 

Because Madara is pretty damn sure it's true. Every single word of it. 

"Yes!" Hashirama cried out. "That's exactly what you did!"

Tobirama's eyes narrowed. "I did _not_." He pointed at the portion on the plate vaguely. "It's the same as everyone else."

"No, it's not!"

"You're causing a scene."

" _You're_ causing a scene!" 

Mito pressed her hand against Madara's shoulder delicately. Her smile is tight. "I apologize for this." She glanced at Hashirama with a disappointment in her eyes that Madara has seen in parents that have watched their children light their own house on fire. "I knew I shouldn't have brought him."

"--know you took my damn scroll!"

"I did _not_ take your stupid scroll, Tobirama!"

"Just give it back--"

"I DIDN'T TAKE IT!"

Mito sighs, shaking her head. She patted his arm again, leaning very close. "I should have brought wine. I know better than to leave empty-handed when these two are going at it." 

Madara raised his own hand to cup hers, squeezing it tightly for strength that he did not have at the moment with these two idiots. 

"It's alright." He said gently. "We need something stronger than wine anyway." 

**_____ **

"Madara-sama!" The Akimichi boy comes flying out of nowhere, his feet hitting the ground with a _loud thump_ and a cloud of dirt. He smiles brightly, offering a polite bow and glancing around expectantly. "Have you seen Tobirama-sensei?" 

Madara examined the Akimichi in mild interest. It wasn't often that his husband's students had the courage to speak to him directly, or rather sought him out without _knowing_ Tobirama was at his side. The boy wasn't holding a mission summons or dressed for a training session. What the hell did he want? Madara set the fruit he had been looking at into his basket, tossing a few coins to the vendor. 

"Not with me. Why? Is something wrong?"

"Oh no, I just have a message. It's just my day to deliver the messages between Sensei and Hokage-sama." 

And that's when Madara's mind decides to _pause_ everything and try to unravel what he's just said. Messages? Between Tobirama and Hashirama?

"Alright, brat, explain _everything_."

The Akimichi blinked up at him dumbly. "Explain what?" He asked, looking far too innocent, as if he didn't see the problem. "Oh! Right. I know today was supposed to be Kagami's day, but we switched because he promised me snacks. Something about going to do something with Danzou? Or maybe Homura?"

Madara recognizes absolutely none of those names besides Kagami, although he assumes they're probably Tobirama's students just like this one was. He disregards trying to figure out who they are (or even what the Akimichi's name is) as unimportant for right now. They've only been Tobirama's students for two years, he's sure he'll learn their names eventually. Until then, he needs to deal with this brand new messaging system going on here. 

"Why are you delivering messages? They work in the same damn tower, and live in the same area. If they need to talk, they can _walk_."

"Oh. Well Tobirama-sensei said it was because he wasn't going to say a single word until Hokage-sama returned whatever he stole. So he sends us with messages. And the Hokage sends us back."

Oh by Indra--

"You're telling me that they've resorted to making _children_ run back and forth between them rather than just talk to each other."

"I guess…?"

Madara shoved his shopping basket into the brat's hands. "Take this to my house, and when you see your sensei, tell him to get his ass to the Tower. I'm done with this shit." He ordered, stomping off in the opposite direction. 

"W-wait! Madara-sama, I'm supposed to--"

"Do as you're told, brat!"

**_____ **

He puts Hashirama on one side of the room and Tobirama on the other side. Like seperating bickering damn children. 

"Don't say a single thing to each other." Madara demanded, halfway to losing his temper. He was tempted to just burn the damn Tower down with his Amaterasu and leave to start another village with everybody that had any _sense_ . Which meant everyone except these two idiots. "Oh wait, you already _aren't_ speaking to each other."

Tobirama huffed, crossing his arms. "I don't see the point of this--"

"The point of this is for _my_ sanity and the sake of your home life. One more day of this nonsense, and you're going to be spending the week hoping your students will let you bunk with them." Madara interrupted, shaking his head. Hashirama looked far too pleased by the idea of his brother having to beg a bunch of twelve year olds to sleep in spare sleeping bags on their floors. "Don't you dare say a fucking word, tree-man." 

Hashirama shrunk into himself. His lips twisted into an overdramatic pout, and he pulled his hands into his sleeves, kicking his legs like a toddler preparing to throw a tantrum. 

"I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I here? Tobirama started this!"

Tobirama's head whipped up as if he'd been struck. He didn't move an inch from his seat, but it was obvious he was more than prepared to throw himself at the older Senju if the taut muscles indicated anything. Well, if Madara had any control of how this was going to go, it was gone now. 

"You took my scroll."

"I _did not_ take your scroll." 

"I know you did." Tobirama repeats, slowly and with an edge to his voice that wasn't very promising for how this intervention would turn out. "I'm willing to forgive all your childish behaviors this past week _if_ you return my scroll." 

Hashirama's eyebrows shot up. "My _behavior_ ? You threw away my lunch! And gave me less food than everyone else. And I _know_ you pushed me into that lady the other day because your hand print was on my back." He argued, his dark brown eyes getting dramatically wet and his lip quivering. Probably for sympathy that Madara didn't have to give. 

"Even if I did push you, I didn't hit you hard enough to leave a mark."

"Yes, you did! You hit me hard."

"No, I did _not_ ." Tobirama grit out, his hands digging into the seat until his knuckles were white. It was the most unhinged and childishly angry that Madara had ever seen him. To be honest, he wasn't impressed. "But _you_ have been messing with my allergies."

"It's fall. Some trees bloom flowers in the fall. That isn't my fault."

"Oh _really_?" Tobirama scoffed, flipping his hand in disinterest. "I've never heard of that before." 

Hashirama's voice goes high-pitched and mocking. "Oh right, you must know everything. You're the smartest in every room, right?" He tilted his head, and it smelled of something sweet. 

Madara glanced around the room towards the cracks in the wood from accidental mishaps to usual wear and tear from the years. Stems and roots were eating away at those empty spaces, few flowering already at the turmoil of emotions going on. 

"Anyone can be the smartest in the room if you're in it, Anija."

Hashirama blinked back tears. "Well you--"

"ENOUGH!" 

Properly chastised by the sudden shout, both of the Senju wilted back into their seats, shut up by the Uchiha. It took Madara a few moments of heavy breathing and meditation to realize the whole world has slipped into a sudden red, and it took another moment for him to tug the chakra away from his eyes so the Sharingan would fade. 

"Oh for the Sage's sake, did you take the fucking scroll?" He asked his closest friend. 

Hashirama shook his head. 

"Fine then. You don't have it. Tobirama, apologize for accusing him of taking it."

Tobirama's expression twisted into disdain and protest. "But I--"

"You _will_ have to sleep with your students. You won't be welcome in my bed until you apologize." Madara threatened, although he wasn't entirely sure if he was really going to go through with it. Sure, it might punish Tobirama, but it would _also_ punish himself. 

Tobirama crossed his arms, thinking it over. The room fell silent as he let it process through his mind, obviously going through some complicated thought process where he weighed his options again and again. 

Finally he spoke. "Sorry, Anija."

"Apology accepted, Tobira." Hashirama chirped, far too pleased by the whole situation. Madara reached over and smacked his head. The man let out a cry, clutching onto himself in shock like he'd been beheaded or something. 

"You say it too. You've been just as much of an asshole." 

"But-- but you were on my side!" Hashirama stammered out, shocked. "We're best friends."

"I'm not on anybody's side! Apologize, or I swear I'll light every tree in the Land of Fire _on fire_. Starting with you." 

Hashirama pouted, his shoulders slumping. He let out a sniffle and rubbed at his face overdramatically. 

"Sorry, Tobira." 

Tobirama inclined his head in response. 

"Good." Madara stood up straighter, stretching his limbs. "I'm going home to sleep. You've given me a headache. No more messages through overgrown toddler-genin. No more scrolls. No more fighting. I'm done with all of this. You two idiots fight worse than me and Izuna ever did. And he was a nightmare when he was upset with me. We're _done_ with this. Agreed?"

"Yes." 

"Okay, Dara."

Madara left with a final glare. 

**_____ **

(They started arguing again only two hours later.)

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> EPILOGUE:
> 
> Hashirama did take the scroll. He just wasn't going to confess to it.


End file.
